


Tickling the Chat's Whiskers

by Freedom_Shamrock



Series: Marichat May 2019 [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, High School, Marichat, Marichat May, buff marinette, temporary injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-26 13:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedom_Shamrock/pseuds/Freedom_Shamrock
Summary: After Marinette gets an injured Chat Noir to safety during an akuma attack, he feels obligated to thank her.  Could a friendship, and possibly more, develop?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May 2019, day 1. Prompt, no powers.

"Chat? Chat Noir?" The voice was familiar, insistent, pulling him out of the blanket of darkness to the discomforts of the real world. Holy shit, he hurt… like... everywhere. Paris was too loud and too bright as he squinted up at the blurred face looming over him. "Oh, there you go.  Come on, Kitty. We need to get you someplace safe."

He blinked a couple of times, and her face came into focus. For a moment he thought she was Ladybug, but it was his classmate, Marinette, her shoulder-length black hair whipping in the magical wind of an angry akuma. Her eyebrows furrowed as she peered into his face.

"Chat, are you okay?"

He nodded, though he really felt like crap.

"Can you get up?" she asked urgently. "We need to get someplace safer."

He tried to get up, but it was so hard.  He just wanted to spent the rest of the fight right here, napping on the street.  He thought it was a street. After a moment, Marinette crouched down and heaved him over her shoulders in a fireman carry.  When on earth had his tiny friend learned this particular skill. He'd known her for years, and yet she could still surprise him. Normally he'd object. He'd make a point of scooping her up and vaulting to safety. But this time, he let himself hang limply, like a ragdoll cat.

"Do you remember what happened?" Marinette asked as she scurried around abandoned cars in the middle of the street, their doors flung open. 

He thought for a moment, but came up completely blank. What day even was it? "Akuma," he suggested, hoping the rest would come back as they talked.

"Obviously," she agreed. "Do you remember what kind it was?"

"Horrible." That was also probably a given.

She snorted. "That goes without saying." She ducked down a dead end alley and under a set of stairs on the side of a building. "Easy does it, Chat." She helped him sit on the ground, leaning against the wall. " You got hit by the akuma's powers and then she tossed you down the street into a billboard. You're bound to be sore. You might have broken bones or a concussion."

That explained it.  Sort of. He'd been thrown farther and harder as Chat Noir before. "What's her power do?" he asked. He hadn't been mind controlled, so that was a win.

Marinette frowned. "As best I can tell, it looks like she sucks the power out of things. Electronics all died when she hit them. I'd guess she was able to suck out your power too."

"Ladybug?" he asked. Had she shown up? He didn't remember seeing her, and he was leaning toward buying in to Marinette's concussion idea.

"She hasn't been seen yet," Marinette explained.  She gently ran her fingers over his head. "But I know Alya put out an alert, so she'll be here soon."

Her fingers brushed a sore spot and he flinched.

"I'm going to go see if anyone has some ice they can give us," she said, frowning a little. "I know Ladybug's cure will fix it, but I don't think it's fair for you to sit this out in any more pain than you have to."

He appreciated it, but he kind of just wanted to rest his head in her lap to wait out the all clear. 

"Don't worry, Kitty, I'll be back," she promised. Then she leaned in and lightly kissed his forehead. "Just close your eyes and rest, and I'll help you as soon as I can.  Okay?"

He nodded, finding it all too easy to just follow her directions. His eyes fluttered closed and he let the comfortable darkness swallow him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute speed write.
> 
> I may not be able to hit all the Marichat May prompts (or at least not all on time) as I have to prep the original treatment of "Something Familiar" for publication mid-month, but I'll do my best.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir stops by to thank Marinette for her timely save during the last akuma attack, and things don't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May day 2, prompt Greek AU
> 
> This is not an AU. I don't really do a lot of AUs, so this includes some Greek stuff, but isn't a Greek AU.

Chat Noir landed lightly on Marinette's balcony.  He owed her more than she could imagine, for her rescue during yesterday's akuma attack. Plagg had been able to hold on to his transformation for only as long as she was there.  The moment she ran off to find ice for his throbbing head, he turned into Adrien, or so his kwami had informed him. He'd missed it all by lying there unconscious until Ladybug's cure washed over him.

He leaned over to tap on her skylight, peering into her room. As he caught sight of her struggling to pull a voluminous indigo fabric over her head, he realized he was being a creepy peeping tomcat and looked away. Through Nino's locker room etiquette rant, he'd learned that not everyone was as blase about changing in front of others as him. He kept his eyes averted as he tapped again. His sensitive ears picked up a muffled yelp, the sound of stumbling, and eventually her approach.

The skylight popped open, and Marinette's eyes just cleared the edge enough to see him. "Chat Noir?" She seemed surprised, possibly even flustered. "Are… are you okay? Is there an akuma? Are you hurt?"

Smiling, he shook his head. "I'm here to express my gratitude for your aid yesterday." Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a little circle. Honestly, it was one of her more adorable expressions, though to be fair, he'd recently realized that her widely expressive face was always adorable.

"Oh," she whispered. She glanced down into her room. "Uhm… want to come in? I can't make it up there in this costume, and my footing's a bit precarious."

"I don't want to be an inconvenience," he said.

Marinette shook her head, making her bobbed hair swish over her shoulders. "It's not… an inconvenience, that is. Please come in." She disappeared into her room and he heard a little thump.

"Are you okay, Princess?" She'd gotten less clumsy over the years, but she was still prone to random tumbles and trips.

"Just fine," she called back up.

He was careful not to put his boots on her bed as he descended into her room. She stood in front of her floor length mirror fastening a belt around her waist, and the room suddenly felt far warmer than it had any right to. The fabric she'd been wrestling with was some sort of ancient Greek costume that flowed and draped over her beautifully. The sleeves reached her wrists, but the top seam had only been attached in short strategic spots, letting the pale skin of her shoulders and arms peek out at him. He gulped, wondering how something that provided so much actual coverage could be so damn sexy. It was ridiculous. Most fashion houses showed far more skin in an effort to garner sex appeal, yet this had them all beat.

When she smiled brightly at him in the mirror he realized it may be more Marinette than the outfit. Oh god. He liked her. Sure, he'd realized he had a fledgling crush on her at some point a few months back. But in the last three years, he'd learned that he had a tendency to develop crushes on anyone who was kind to him. He'd had one on Nino for ages, and Rose, and… well most of his classmates. But he'd also learned that the crush would pass if he just left it alone. While he was no longer pursuing Ladybug, he'd stopped when Plagg called him out as a douche for persisting after she'd said no, and to be fair, the little black cat was right. He'd been no different than Chloe and Lila were to his civilian side. Then Ladybug had a boyfriend for a while, and he found he was happy for her happiness.

His feelings toward Marinette had been surprisingly persistent, but he couldn't act on them. She was his friend, and while he liked the idea of being friends with someone before getting romantic with them, he worried too much about what would happen if things didn't work out.  Marinette had dated Luka for two and a half years, until he went away to music school. When he'd been home for summer breaks, and the whole group was together at parties, there was obvious awkwardness between the two of them, and they'd parted on friendly terms. He didn't want that.

"You sure you're okay, Chat?" She had turned to face him while his brain spiraled off on its tangent. She had a tiny frown as she stepped closer, peering into his face. "You zoned out there for a minute."

He shook his head. "Sorry… I… was… uh… trying to place your costume. It's… really nice on you." It was all true, just not all the details.

She beamed at him and posed like a Greek statue for just a moment. "I'm doing a report on I mera tou Ochi for history class. It's a modern Greek holiday celebrating the day Greece told Mussolini to fuck off." She shrugged, and the fabric shifted delightfully over her arms. "I know the costume doesn't fit the time period, but I wanted to wear something clearly Greek. I started with the doric chiton, like the ones you see on caryatid statues, but…"  She squished up her face in distaste. "I do not have the body type for that design. So I switched the an ionic style." She looked down at her arms, gently waving them like waves. "I'm really happy with how it turned out."

Chat Noir nodded. "You should be. It's gorgeous." He had history with her.  He was going to get to see her in this again.

Oh yeah.  He was doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 minute sprint.
> 
> Going to try to get one more (either an Adrienette April one that I'm behind on, or another Marichat May) done before I pumpkin. Wish me luck!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat shows up at Marinette's with a totally random urgent request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May, prompt #3, kittens
> 
> Thanks to Toraya for the akuma name.

It was a miserable drizzly evening when Chat Noir next stopped by. She'd half-expected he might be back. They'd really had a nice visit when he came to thank her for helping him out when he'd been hit by Null and Void, though since he hadn't spent two hours fighting it, he didn't know that was its name. But she didn't think his next visit would be so soon, under such miserable conditions, or so urgent.

She was pinning together the first pieces of a new design. While her class presentations generally didn't require a coordinated costume or outfit, she enjoyed the chance to combine what she loved with what she had to do.  It helped that her teachers seemed pleased with the extra effort. And she had a growing and diverse collection of clothes for her portfolio.

Over the heavy guitar riffs from her speakers, she heard the vigorous knocking on her skylight and looked up. It was just dusk, so she could see Chat Noir's pensive face through the plexiglass. Setting aside her pin cushion, she stood up and hurried over to flip the latch.

"Chat Noir, what brings your out on such a soggy night?" she asked.

"Do you have a laundry bag or covered basket I can use?" he blurted without any kind of greeting. "It's a life or death situation."

"Akuma?" she asked.

He shook his head.

She scrambled down her ladder. "Will my hamper be too large?" she asked, holding it up and preparing to dump it out.

He nodded. "Much too large."

Her eyes darted around her room, and she felt far too much like her alter ego at the moment.  "Oh!" She ran across the room and held aloft her yarn basket. "Will this work?" It was sturdy, made of wide strips of woven wood.

"Perfect," he said. The fact that he missed an ideal pun opportunity told her that this really was serious.  

She dumped out the balls of yarn and clambered up her ladder with the basket. "Here. Do you need anything else?" 

"I'll be back. You can help me then." He took the basket by its handle and vanished into the rain.

"Was that weird, Tikki?" she asked. "Do you think he'd be better off with Ladybug helping him out?"

From her protected place under Marinette's bed, Tikki shook her head. "It's not an akuma, and I haven't felt Plagg trying to reach me, so I don't think Ladybug is needed right now."

Marinette nodded. "I know. It's… Chat doesn't fluster easily. I'd consider him largely unflappable at this point, and he looked really shaken." Worrying about the health and well-being of her favorite black cat had become almost a hobby at this point. He didn't just do wonderful things for Paris; he was also her best friend and the only reason she'd kept the miraculous after the whole mess with Stoneheart.

"He said he'd be back and you could help then, so you probably won't have long to wait," Tikki reasoned. "You could go get him some towels and cocoa.  It's not nice out there."

"Good idea." Marinette headed for the steps. "Thanks Tikki."

She had just gotten a plate of snacks and mugs of warm drinks settled on her desk when Chat burst in through her skylight carefully holding the basket. She heard a tiny sneeze, followed by the most pathetic mewling noises. She stared wide-eyed at him. "Chat," she asked quietly. "What's in the basket?"

He snatched the top towel off her chaise and made a little nest out of it. Then, as gentle as she'd ever seen him, he scooped three damp kittens out of her knitting basket, one at a time.

"Oh my god," she whispered, scrambling for a second towel. "Where did you find them?" she asked.

"They were in the park in a box marked free kittens." He scowled. "They're just babies, Princess. Far too young to be separated from their maman." He looked so sad. "And someone just dumped them in the park. Like they couldn't be bothered to take them to the shelter."

Marinette plucked the soggiest of the kittens out of the nest and gently dried it with the towel, before returning them to their littermates. "That's plain cruel."

"We need to get them dry and warm," he explained.  "They're big enough to eat tuna if we shred it, but that comes well after they aren't shivering so much. I'll bring them to the shelter where I volunteer, tomorrow."

"You volunteer at a shelter?" How had she not known that detail?

He nodded,  imitating her actions of drying one of the kittens. "It's good publicity for them."

Marinette got up and rummaged in her storage bins until she found a small space heater. "We can warm them up with this. It's gentler and less scary than a hair dryer."

"Great plan," Chat said in agreement.

As the kittens dried, gently pet by Marinette and Chat Noir, their complaints became less strident and they eventually drifted off to sleep.

"Thanks so much for the help tonight, Princess," Chat said, finally looking up from the little nest.

"Of course I would help you," she said, feeling a bit indignant. "This was important to you, how could I not help?"

The smile he gave her was sweet yet somehow wistful. "There aren't many people in my life who I can go to at any time with any weird request I may have. There'd be too many questions and strings attached in most cases."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute sprint. Apologies if it's awful, I was literally dozing off while writing this at the end of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir is a bit off when he comes to visit, but that's okay. Marinette has ways of helping him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May, prompt #4, birthday.
> 
> This one features a sad kitty, but he'll be okay, and the next one will be all sorts of fluff.

Marinette's mostly secret friendship with Chat Noir had grown over the last couple of months, with his visits coming at least twice a week at this point. Sometimes he helped her with homework or shared stories about the cats at the shelter. On some of her visits, when she needed quiet to focus, he napped on her bed or quietly read on her chaise.

He shared his akuma battle stories, and seeing them from her partner's perspective rather than her own or the Ladyblog's far-from-objective focus. While she was still the one to come up with the plan in most fights, she tried to avoid taking his trust for granted. When there was time, she explained her convoluted lucky charm-based plans a bit more, and asked for his suggestions more often before they implemented their powers. It had improved their dynamic.

But today was different. From the moment he came in, she could tell this was a new kind of visit. His whole manner, from ears to tail, was droopy. He draped over her chaise like sixty-eight kilograms of melted cat-boy. Silent. Emanating sadness.

He didn't seem to want to talk, and she started off, just trying to accept it, letting him do what he felt was best, but she couldn't ignore it. She rubbed at the center of her chest, trying to dispel the dull ache she felt, and pushed away her homework. There was no way she could focus under the pall of his melancholia.

"Hey Kitty, I'm trying not to be too nosy, I know I can't know who you are, but…" She moved to sit next to his apparently boneless form. "I'm worried about you. I can tell you aren't okay right now, but... are you going to be okay eventually?" She'd experienced enough rough spots to know that asking 'are you okay?' was often not helpful.

He sighed. "You're too good at this." His voice was a hoarse whisper that made her chest feel tight.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

"I don't think so." He shook his head, slowly pushing himself up to sit next to her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I'm just making you feel bad along with me. I can go."

She caught his arm before he could stand up. "No. Please don't go. I don't want you to feel like this alone." The eyes he turned on her were unexpectedly watery. "Oh Kitty. Please stay."

He bowed his head and relaxed a bit. "Okay."

"Do you want some treats?" she asked. "Or a movie? Is there anything at all that will help you deal with how you feel right now?"

"Could I…" he broke off with a cough. "Could I have a hug?"

She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. "You can always have hugs. As many as you need." He tensed a bit, and she worried her response had been too much, but then he slumped against her. "Mama and Papa would give you hugs, too, if that would help." She'd reintroduced her parents to him a few weeks into their new friendship. Her father apologized for his ridiculousness from a few years ago, the incident that lead to him being akumatized, and took to the hero as he did to any of her friends.

"Just Princess hugs for now," he said, as his arms wound around her. He buried his face in her shoulder, and it tickled a bit.

"In case it wasn't clear, you can always stop by for Princess hugs," she offered, slipping one hand up into his wild hair. "You're very important to me, not just because you save Paris all the time, either. You're a person in there… well, I'm assuming you're a person and not fifteen cats in a leather suit." She smiled when a startled snort of laughter came out of him. "It's no fun being sad. But it can be a little less awful with people who care about you."

"You really are the best, you know that." He tightened his hold for a moment, but didn't let go or draw back as she expected. "Today is my mom's birthday," he said, his voice shaky. "It would have been, anyway."

Oh god.  She knew next to nothing about his family. Ladybug **never** asked personal questions, and she suddenly regretted that. It was apparent that his relationship with his father wasn't great, but she'd never realized how rarely he mentioned his mom, and that it was always in past tense. "I'm so sorry, Kitty."

"She would have liked you," he whispered. "My father never speaks of her… he tries to pretend nothing is wrong, and even though it's been years, it still hurts sometimes."

She leaned back to look into his face. Thin tracks of tears had run down over his mask. She kissed his damp cheek and pulled him close again. "When those times pop up, please come to us." She toyed with his soft hair. "You can share whatever you want, or be quiet if that's what's best for you. Okay?"

He nodded against her shoulder. "I kind of thought you'd understand, and I'm so glad I was right."

"Well, you **are** pretty smart for fifteen cats in a leather suit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute speed write.
> 
> I'm hoping to catch up on these this evening.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is going to teach Chat Noir how to make bread, and Marinette trouble-shoots a very Chat specific problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May, prompt #5, Cooking/Baking

Chat Noir watched as Tom Dupain set out the ingredients he needed on the counter, getting everything ready to make bread. When he learned how rarely the cat hero was permitted bread in his own home, he'd offered to teach him how to do it himself. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Sure, the chef would probably have a stroke if he dared trespass in the kitchen, but he didn't plan on living in the mansion any longer than necessary. It was too cold and empty. The way the last few months had flown, it wouldn't be that long before he could move out.

"For home baking, it's important to check to make sure you have everything you need before you get started. It's surprising how often Sabine or I get going on dinner, only to realize we're short on something and have to send Marinette to the store," Tom explained. His tone was  rueful, rather that pedantic, which was a nice change from when he asked his own father for guidance on something. Nathalie was scarcely better.

"What kind are we making?" Chat asked.

"We're starting with a basic baguette." Tom smiled at him. "You're French, and this should be a staple for you."

"Why wouldn't I just buy it from you, though? I love your bakery." He knew it was his father's solution to everything. Just buy it. Don't waste your time on it. But he wanted to learn it anyway.

Tom shrugged. "You could, of course. But it's a nice first bread, pretty forgiving and basic. And there's something satisfying about eating something you made."

"First… bread?" He tilted his head, curious about the wording.

"First in two ways," Tom clarified, holding up two fingers. "It's good for learning bread basics, so it's a good place to start. And first in that I fully plan to teach you at least four other types of bread before you move into your own place."

Warmth washed over him. "Really? You'll teach me more?"

Marinette came stampeding down the stairs then. "Got it!" She held something aloft.

"Excellent," Tom said. "I knew you could come up with something. You're so clever, Cupcake."

"Let me see your paws, Kitty," she said, plugging in a hot glue gun and waving him over to a part of the counter away from the ingredients.

"What are we doing?" he asked. It had seemed unsanitary to make bread in his Chat gloves, but they didn't come off. When he tried wearing disposable gloves over them, his claws popped through the tips. He'd have to talk with Plagg about that.

"We're making you claw caps," she said with a happy smile. "People use them for real cats. I wonder if they make them for panthers and stuff.  They may not be our permanent solution for your cooking lessons, but they're a good place to start." She was so cute when she rambled about something she was excited about. That it was somehow related to him pushed a happy smile onto his face. "The glue isn't super hot, but it would burn my bare skin. Your suit should protect you enough that you won't even feel it." 

She caught one of his hands, and he relaxed it so she could put it in the position she wanted. Seeing her fingers wrapped around his brought back that warm rush of happiness. Marinette and her family were so casual and affectionate. He got more physical touch here in an hour than he got in two months at home. It was no wonder he'd started spending more and more time with the Dupain-Chengs, and it wasn't always just with her.

He watched as she ran a line of thick melted plastic around the base of his claw in a continuous spiral until she'd covered the entire thing. He was so impressed with her; she could find solutions to  **anything** . She could probably rival Ladybug's creative problem solving. His crush had stubbornly persisted, and he was beginning to wonder if that meant it was more than a crush. It certainly felt stronger than any other, even his infatuation with Ladybug. Plagg had been no help, cackling at him when he asked for advice. It was frustrating to be so unable ta talk to anyone about something like this. He watched, mesmirized as she coated all his claws in rubbery glue.

She looked them over one last time before unplugging the glue gun. "We should help you put on the gloves to make sure we don't dislodge them.  And if we're careful taking them off, we may be able to reuse them." She wound up the cord. "I'll just go put this away." She ran off, taking her steps two at a time despite her short legs.

Tom nudged Chat's arm, and he realized he'd been staring after her in a daze. His human ears suddenly went hot. 

"My Cupcake is brilliant," Tom said gently.

"She is," Chat agreed, turning back to the ingredients on the counter.

"Respect her and her boundaries as you have, and we'll have no problems." He patted Chat's shoulder.

Chat gawked at the man. "Uh.. what?"

Tom smiled and winked. "And don't worry, I won't tell her a thing. You can work through it in your own way." He chuckled. "It's like making bread, actually. There's a lot of ways to make it, once you understand it. And the end result is worth the work you put in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute sprint.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir returns to Marinette's to find the best surprise ever. Family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May, prompt #6 Adoption/Family

Chat Noir bounded over the rooftops, careful to stick to the shadows. While he wanted nothing more than to head straight to Marinette's house, he adamantly reserved direct trips for his worst days, when he needed immediate comfort. She was too important, his time with her and her family had to be protected. He couldn't risk someone catching wind that Chat Noir regularly spent his evenings at the Dupain Cheng household, as that would make them a target for Hawkmoth. And he knew he wouldn't be able to keep away, even to protect them, at this point.

Last time he'd gotten to cuddle with Marinette while they watched a movie. He was glad she didn't ask about the movie, because he'd spent most of the time focusing on the way her small body nestled snugly against him and how she smelled. He'd missed most of the plot. He wondered if she'd be up for something similar tonight. Would it be too needy to ask?

When he finally slunk over the top of her roof, landing lightly on her balcony, he closed his eyes and drew in a long slow breath, basking in the scents and the feelings associated with them. Warmth and contentment. He loved it here. He could stay here forever and never leave.

"Hey, give that back, you little rascal." Marinette's voice drifted up through the skylight. "Just wait til your papa gets here." She giggled. "Ha! Take that."

What on earth was she doing? Was there a play at school she was trying out for? Was she babysitting? He tapped on the skylight, knowing she'd warn him off if she couldn't have him here right now.

"Come on in," she called. "It's unlocked."

She usually opened it for him, but perhaps she was busy. Hopefully not too busy for her stray. He pushed up the dome and slipped in. She was under the bed talking in a hushed whisper, and he could practically feel the excitement radiating off her. "Princess?" he drawled, playing along. "Wherever are you, my princess?"

As his boots reached the floor, she jumped out from under her bed, holding a tiny ball of black fur aloft in his direction. "The circle of liiiiiiiife!" she sang.

The ball of fur looked at him and let out a tiny, "Mew" of inquiry.

He gasped, recognizing the kitten as her favorite from the litter she'd helped him rescue just a few weeks past. He'd gotten to see all of them during his volunteer shifts, and this one had had a sold sign on his enclosure since day two. He'd had to stay at the shelter until he'd been properly weaned from his adoptive mama. "Kitten?" He gawked at Marinette.

"Is that any way to greet your son?" she demanded in mock indignation as she drew in her arms to gently tuck the kitten to her chest. She kissed the tiny head. "Don't worry baby," she whispered. "I'm sure your papa is delighted to see you. He's just had a long day."

Chat crept closer, his eyes darting around the room to find kitten toys, a scratching post, and over near her sink, a litter tray. "Papa?"

She grinned up at him and held the kitten right next to his face. "He looks just like you."

"You adopted him? Your parents let you?" Before dropping the litter off at the shelter, he'd mentioned he wished he could adopt all the homeless cats. It was both unrealistic and not healthy for anyone, but he'd settle for just one, hopefully once he got his own place. She said always wanted a pet, but her parents weren't keen on the idea. Yet here she was, with a kitten and all the trappings. Enthusiasm bubbled up in his chest. He'd been happy the entire litter found homes, but he'd known he'd miss them. They were special to him.

"Mama and Papa even paid the fees," she said proudly. "This way you can still see him now that he's strong and healthy enough to be out in the world. And if you'd like, he can come live with you when you get your place."

He gawked at her.

"When I visited the shelter, they said that black cats don't get adopted at the rate of the others." She frowned, her whole face sad. "I'm very fond of black cats." Her eyes darted toward him and then away, and he was pretty sure he could see a hint of pink blooming in her cheeks. "So I asked if I could get him."

"May I hold him?" he asked, eager enough that he could feel his tail wriggling with excitement. "What's his name?" She gently transferred the kitten into his capable paws, and he felt the instant purr through the suit.

"I couldn't name our son without your input," she said, aghast. "You play with him while I go get snacks. Then we can find his name."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute sprint.
> 
> I should have been able to get more writing done today than I did, but it was a busy day full of getting lots of stuff done (just not the stuff I wanted to be doing).


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat discusses his exit plan with his Princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May day 7 prompt, roommates.
> 
> Apologies for the delay. I had so many fun name possibilities for their kitten, and I had to figure that out first.

"So I have the money to move out now," Chat explained. "But I think it'll be a lot less stressful to do it after bac."

"It sounds pretty stressful as-is, Kitty," Marinette said, frowning as she teased Jean Luc Picat with a dangly toy. "But I suppose the stress you know is maybe… less disruptive? Than the stress you don't."

He couldn't help but feel warm and loved by her concern. "I'm not even waiting for graduation," he admitted. "As soon as I'm done with the exam, I'm out." He sucked his lower lip into his mouth for a moment. "I may have to couch surf for a couple of weeks until I can actually get in to a new place. None of the places I've checked are willing to hold a flat without a monthly payment, and my father would probably notice that."

She spun to him, the toy forgotten as Jean Luc pounced on it, disgust on her face. "He keeps tabs on your spending of your own money?"

He nodded. Wasn't that normal? Didn't all parents do that?

"You need to get his access to your accounts revoked before you do anything else," she suggested, though in the same way that Ladybug suggest-ordered him about. It was surprisingly hot on both girls, but somehow more so on his sweet princess. "You're of age to manage your own finances.  Even if that's your first step before signing a lease, it's where you need to start, in case he decides to retaliate by taking your money."

He snorted. "He doesn't  **need** my money. He has gobs of his own." Money and image seemed to be his father's sole interests these days.

She shook her head and dropped the cat toy before walking over to the chaise where he sat. "Not because he needs it for himself. Because he sounds like the kind of person who would use it to control you."

"Oh!" Well that was a horrifying revelation, and he realized he should've thought of that. "I think you're onto something, there, Princess," he said weakly. He didn't like thinking that way, but it was totally fair.  His bids for freedom as he'd matured had been fraught with shouting matches and threats that Gabriel Agreste had proven all too willing to follow through on. "I should've thought of that." There was suddenly a delicious warmth pressed against him, dispelling the gloom of his home life. He melted into her hug.

"You shouldn't  **have** to think such things about your own family," she whispered sadly. "That's not what family should be."

He embraced her in return, relishing in the feeling of having her in his arms. Did he occasionally push for Princess hugs just because it was his favorite place to be.  Yes. Yes, he did, and he could totally own that. "He's not really my family anymore," he whispered into her hair, pulled into an adorable loose bun. "He's a relative, because we don't have control over who we're related to. But he's not family. Your parents, Jean Luc Picat, and you, you're my family now."

It broke his heart a little to hear her sniffle. "You're ours, too." She squeezed him a little tighter for a moment, but showed no sign of actually letting him go any time soon. "We fed you.  You're ours now."

He wanted to thank her, but he was afraid he'd start crying if he tried to speak. Their conversation on his future plans wasn't supposed to be full of intense emotions.  But since when did his plans mean anything in the grand scheme?

"And after bac, you can come here," she promised. "You can stay with us for as long as you need to. Okay?"

Well she was certainly pulling out all the stops tonight. A purr rose unbidden from his throat, but when he tried to pull away, horrified by his miraculous-enhanced body's response, she just held him tighter.

"That's a happy sound." Even without looking, he could tell she was smiling. "I like it. I like it when you're happy."

"I'm almost always happy when I'm here," he admitted.

"Except when you're sad or hurt," she pointed out. "But we'll take our first kitty in all his moods." 

Jean Luc hopped up onto his lap, curling into a tight ball in the dip between his legs.

"You know, I might never leave if I stay with your family," he cautioned, utterly serious, though she probably thought he was joking.

"We'd be okay with that," she promised, loosening her hug to look up at him. "Mama and Papa worry about you, too, you know."

He forced his gaze away from the intensity in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but this was definitely not the time. He couldn't do that. Not now, possibly never, but he could hope. Hope was what got him through most days. "I've never really lived with other people. My father's house is… huge and cold. It feels like living in a museum. I may not make a very good roommate." He wanted nothing more than to stay with her forever, but he needed to be honest, even if it changed her mind.

"That's okay," she insisted. "We'll help you. That's what **real** family does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute sprint.
> 
> Chapter 8 is already written, and I'm hoping to catch up on prompts today, though I'll pace myself on posting them. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a cat shelter fundraiser!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat May prompt #8, Mittens for Kittens.

"Oops. You're getting the yarn caught on your claws again," Marinette said, reaching over to fix the situation. "Maybe instead of keeping the yarn next to you, you should put it in your lap?" He was all sorts of adorable, looking entirely too much like an uncertain kitten as he clumsily wielded a pair of knitting needles. "But you're getting the rhythm down now."

"I'm terrible at this," he moaned, though he continued looping and tucking yarn in the simplest stitch she knew.

"So was I, when I started," she said, her hands on autopilot as she watched his work. "I made my father a scarf that was so uneven and poorly assembled that it didn't last a winter." He'd been so proud of her work though, and had proudly worn it about until it snagged on something and came thoroughly undone.

"It's hard for me to be bad at things," he said, frowning a little. "Uncomfortable."

"Do you really think it's possible to be an expert on your first try of anything new?" she asked. It didn't seem like him to be so unrealistic.

He shook his head. "I know that's not how things work." He sighed. "Pavlovian conditioning is very effective though. And my father gets really upset if I'm not perfect all the time."

She let out a huff. What was it with green-eyed blond boys and their asshole fathers? "Someday, I want you to introduce me to him."

"You do?" His hands froze and he looked at her in surprise.

"Yes." She nodded. "I want to kick him in the balls."

Chat cackled with glee. "Yes, Princess. I look forward to that day."

"Mama and Papa will be right behind me on the assault bandwagon, just so you know," she cautioned. "And no, I haven't told them anything about him or your horrible relationship with your sperm donor. They've been able to figure it all out on their own, and they're worried about you."

He relaxed and his face went all soft and misty. It wasn't fair. She wanted to kiss the meekness right off his pretty face. He shouldn't be surprised that her parents cared about him, and what did it mean that he found that fact special and emotionally triggering?  Nothing good, she was sure.

"Now back to your knitting, which is far better than the average beginner," she redirected them. "How many hats do you want to make?"

He shrugged. "Not really sure. I mean, more is probably better… but only if they look good enough that people will buy them.

"We're going to put special tags on those," she decided. Yes.  It would help him feel better about his skills while boosting their participation in the Mittens for Kittens fundraiser.  As the weather got cooler, and the fiscal year neared its end, the shelter that had taken in Jean Luc Picat had decided to do a winter wear fundraiser. Handmade or store-bought hats, scarves, and mittens were all welcome. Chat had been so excited when he mentioned it, asking if she could teach him. "Made by Chat Noir, purrrtector of Paris," she said, setting aside her knitting to grab her sketchbook.

"How will that help?" he asked.

She grinned as her pencil flew over the page. "Who wouldn't want a Chat Noir original?" she asked. "I know I'm going to want one."

His cheeks went a delightful pink. "Really?"

"You're a hero.  We all look up to you." She flashed him a smile then returned to her work. "I bet your stuff will outsell everyone else's."

"You're teasing me," he said, throwing her an exaggerated pout.

"There's also the special irony of getting something that was created by the hero who embodies destruction," she pointed out. "That alone may be a marketing point." She shrugged.  Either way, I'm going to plan around your creations, making mittens and scarves for your hats. And if you switch over to scarves like I suggested, I'll make hats and mittens to go with them."

"Nice plan. And if folks buy the whole set, they'll be guaranteed to have some parts that don't disintegrate when they get wet. And I bet folks will be excited to get high quality pieces from Chat Noir's secret friend." He gently bumped her with his shoulder as if he had no idea what that did to her.  Well, maybe he really had no idea.

She giggled. "I'm not your friend, silly. I'm family. We're raising a kitten together. You don't just do that with a friend."

"Are you sure we can't let him be in here with us right now?" Chat asked, gazing sadly at the closed trap door.

"Pffft.  You've seen what he does to yarn, and we're under a timeline, which means we really can't focus on training him right now."  She patted his shoulder, then let her fingers run into his hair. It was as soft as Jean Luc's kitten fur. "But don't worry. He'll be up for cuddle breaks, and our first one of those is scheduled for fifteen minutes from now."

"Really?" His eyes went wide, and his pupils rounded out a bit. "You've scheduled cuddle breaks?"

Smiling smugly, Marinette nodded. "I don't want to overwork you, Kitty. We can help the shelter while still having fun and not hurting our wrists.  Cuddle breaks are the best way to do that."

"How are you so purrfect?" he asked, slowly leaning in to touch his forehead to hers.

"I'm really not." she whispered, suddenly feeling like something in the room had changed.

"Near enough," he replied, straightening up and turning back to his clumsy hat with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30-minute sprint

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me over on [Tumblr](http://freedom-shamrock.tumblr.com/). If you have constructive feedback or need to discuss an aspect of this story, I've found that sort of thing tends to work better via direct messaging or asks than the comments section here.


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